


To Keep You Safe And Sound

by chaoswandas



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Beta Natasha Romanov, F/M, Gamma Clint Barton, Gamma Sam Wilson, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Civil War End-Credits Compliant, Omega Reader, Omega Steve Rogers, Tangled AU, a/b/o dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 22:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12375066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoswandas/pseuds/chaoswandas
Summary: Tucked away in the mountains of New York, Omega! Reader lives a secluded life with her Alpha! Mother, until two unlikely visitors intrude on their solitude. Tangled AU, emphasis on the AU.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as an entry for @bookybuns' fic challenge over on tumblr, but now it's turned into the start of a multi-part fic. I don't know how often I'll be posting parts (mostly because I'm still writing, and I've only finished the prologue and the first part so far), but I do plan on finishing it.
> 
> Find me over on tumblr @chaoswandas

_‘Take the pup. Take the deed to the house in New York. Do not contact him for anything. He has a whole life ahead of him, he doesn’t need to be distracted. Now or ever.’ The other Alpha unceremoniously dumped a carseat at her feet, and a manila envelope was handed to her. ‘I will ensure everything you and the pup need are taken care of, but if I find out you’ve so much as breathed his name, I’ll cut you off.’_

_The mother of the pup in the carseat nodded tersely, before scooping up her newborn child, and turning towards the door._

_‘Oh, another thing. If it turns out to be as intelligent as he is, you will contact me immediately. Any information you need is in that envelope.I don’t require, nor want, you to contact me for any other reason. If I find out you haven’t contacted me about it’s intelligence, you won’t like the results.’  
_

_‘It is a **she** and her name is  **Y/N**.’ The woman’s voice was strained, as if she was holding back the urge to challenge the Alpha behind her. ‘And don’t you fucking touch her ever again.’_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two supersoldiers steal an important piece of tech. A mother leaves her daughter to her own devices to prepare for her heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was beta'd for me by @a-splash-of-stucky over on tumblr, I can't thank her enough for her help.

The two super soldiers stare incredulously at the prosthetic arm on the dash of their getaway car. It’s several minutes before the blonde one speaks, his words slow, as if he himself doesn’t entirely believe them. “Nat heard he was working on something that would help you, I didn’t expect it to be this…” A large, calloused hand wipes over his jaw, smoothing the thick beard that covers those angles the world has been used to seeing. “Not after he completely obliterated your other one.”

His dark-haired accomplice shrugs the aforementioned shoulder, his eyes full of wonder. “Whaddya think? Is he really all that mad if he made this?” His gloved hand reaches out to caress the replacement. 

Steve contemplates what the new vibranium arm could possibly mean for the three of them. Could he have forgiven Bucky? After everything that went down in Siberia? After Steve had broken Clint, Sam, Scott, and Wanda out of the Raft? After being in hiding and on the run for nearly two years, was Tony Stark ready to forgive James Barnes for something he had had no control over? Or was this new arm simply another Stark test of ‘ _Can I?_ ’?

“I really don’t know, Buck. But Nat said there’s a mechanical engineer living in upstate New York who used to work remotely for Stark Industries before the Iron Monger incident. Maybe he can help us install this thing? It’s worth a shot, right?” The blonde glances questioningly at his Alpha partner. 

Bucky’s teeth grit slightly, “Can you not call it an installation, punk? It’s metal, it’s a prosthetic, but it’s still my fuckin’ arm.”

“Right, o’ course. I know it’s your arm, Buck. I’m sorry, I’m just still stunned Tony even made you a new one… ‘Course he had no idea we were gonna steal it… ” Steve sighs heavily, glancing back at the shining metal in the case.

“Is it really stealing if it was made for me?” Bucky questions.

“Yes, jerk. It’s still fuckin’ stealing.”

“ _Language._ ” 

With that Steve Rogers groans and starts up the car. “Stow that. We’ve got over a one-hundred-fifty miles until we’re anywhere near this mysterious engineer’s house. We don’t need to get caught with multi-million dollar tech until it’s impossible to remove without damaging it. Call Nat, tell her we’re going Upstate.”

##  **✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽**

Mother catches you padding down the hall towards the basement stairs three days before your heat starts, your arms laden with nearly every spare blanket the mountain house has to offer. Your eyes don’t meet, but she grabs the keys to the truck you haven’t seen the inside of since your designation presented.  
It’s almost a ritual now. 

The two of you don’t openly acknowledge your nesting, or the week of heat that follows it. One day all the blankets from the linen closet will end up downstairs, and she’ll leave for town to gather food for the week. When she returns she brushes your hair as the two of you sit in silence. Then she leaves until your heat is over, always scenting with the sting of disappointment.

You know this time will be no different, it doesn’t bother you anymore. It’s just how it is.

You’ve just finished rebuilding the base of your nest in the safe room—a pile of duvets, fleece blankets and every pillow that doesn’t scent of Mother—when she returns with the groceries. And a heat basket. That’s unusual, you think as she sets it on the counter, along with the supermarket bags. 

“Put away the food while I pack my overnight bag, Omega?” The slight lilt in her voice makes it sound like a question, but experience tells you otherwise. 

Mother has almost always talked with you this way. It’s just how she is. How alphas are, even parental alphas. Alphas make demands, omegas follow them. 

“Yes, Mother,” you’re already transferring the perishables into the refrigerator when she leaves the kitchen. 

There is a certain relief that comes with nesting, at least for you. It means days without Mother’s presence—just A.B.I.G.A.I.L. to keep you company—without her backhanded quips about your work, without her not-so-subtle comments about your designation. It’s no secret that she’s hates that you’re Omega; your earliest memories are of her teaching you what it means to be Alpha, how to carry yourself, what it will feel like when you scent your mate, how to learn to control your rut. 

But when you presented Omega that swell of pride wasn’t there. She abandoned you at the house for days, and when she returned, it wasn’t the same. For months after, she refused to use your name, calling you Omega, or Flower if she was in a good mood. Gone was the mother who had been proud of what you could do with your mind, proud of who you would become.

She began warning you about Alphas, and while the information never contradicted her pride at being one, it was clear she feared losing you to another Alpha. She stopped taking you into town, she stopped having visitors over, and the bald man that would come to look at your blueprints and specs never came back—which was no real loss, as he always rubbed you the wrong way. 

She did her best to cut you off from the world completely.

But during your heats, that goes away, and you’re left to your own devices. You have run of the house. A.B.I.G.A.I.L. does her best to keep you from being bored, updating you on the world outside, and when you ask, sending you articles and texts on Omega behavior and instinct. This life would be unbearable without your friend—your creation—and she’s your only secret from Mother.

“You aren’t done yet, Flower? I expected better of you, you know I like to be at the B&B before dark,” Mother’s words slice through your reverie, cutting you to the core.

“I-I’m sorry, Mother.” You hurry to put the canned goods and non-perishables away in the pantry, and you can feel her eyes following you intently.

“Don’t rush on my account, I’ll just risk going down the mountain in the dark. It’s no big deal, Omega.” But she doesn’t stop watching you, and it makes you anxious. Your hands shake as you place the last carton of broth in the pantry, before turning to your mother.

“You don’t have to brush my hair, Mother. I know it’s important to you to go down before dark.” You try to maintain confidence as you speak, but it’s so hard with her. You know your designs and plans have sustained you, that your near-genius level talent isn’t something to scoff at, but it is moments like these where you know it will never be enough for her. It will never make up for being Omega.

“Just this once, Flower. It’s already so dark.” She injects worry into her tone, but you know that she just doesn’t want to be around you. The truck has headlights, the mountain isn’t that steep. She just doesn’t want her Omega daughter. She kisses your forehead, and grabs her bag from the counter. “I’ll be back in nine days, Y/N. Be safe. Don’t go outside, don’t let anyone in if anyone comes. Make use of the heat basket, I noticed you were out of those bath soaps.”

You nod, and wish her a safe drive, slipping off the kitchen stool as the door to the garage closes behind her. The engine starts and A.B.I.G.A.I.L. comes out of hiding.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Her voice is tin-y, and sounds in the small ear bud you wear when Mother is home. 

“Just glad to be unsupervised for the next week, Abby. Queue up my nesting playlist, please.”

“Do you want to play Passenger first, Y/N? She seemed unhappy with you today.”

As you move to go finish building your nest, you can just hear the truck pulling away when the sound of ‘Scare Away the Dark’ plays over the speakers.


End file.
